Stolen
by Cindy Glidewell
Summary: Scabior decides to have the mudblood... Dark. Noncon. Lemons. ScabiorxHermione
1. Chapter 1

**AU:** I know I started another Hermione & Scabby fic. But this happened spontaneously. It starts out with a lemon straightaway. If you like this please review. I don't know yet whether I should continue or keep this as a one shot. You tell me.

_Warnings:_ **DARK THEMED. Adult situations. Lemons. Noncon.**

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything except a dirty mind, which, they told me, is supposed to be a joy forever.

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**Stolen**

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He'd stolen her scarf.

" 'Ello Beautiful."

He'd found them.

"Your boyfriend will get much worse if he doesn't learn 'ow to behave."

Harry looked deformed but it still hadn't been enough. Hermione couldn't recall she'd ever been as scared as this before in her entire life. The snatchers had them and their leader had just announced they'd be taken to the Malfoy Manor. She had failed her friends. Even her spell hadn't been enough t help them. The scar on Harry's face had betrayed him and the files the snatchers had been given had betrayed the identities of Hermione and Ron.

The snatchers stood, ready to apparate, when their leader's eyes twinkled and he turned to face Hermione once more. "Wait." He said, his voice betraying a hint of enthusiasm. Why not 'ave a little fun before we go." He slowly approached the young witch, like a predator advancing on its prey, and she quickly looked away. What had he meant?

"Don't you dare!" It was Ron who'd been shouting. Good old Ron. But right now Hermione could curse him for trying to stand up for her. He'd only be hurt himself if he tried pulling such a trick. The snatchers had warned them enough. It was clear now, Hermione could see the error she made by leaving her scarf behind. It had lured the snatchers to wait for them. Somehow she felt that their leader had been the reason they'd waited. He was the one who'd sniffed her scent earlier on and who only moments ago had taken a handful of her hair to sniff again. It freaked her out but she could not say so out loud.

"Wait for me." Scabior said to his fellow snatchers. "I'll be right back." And with that he grabbed Hermione's wrists and guided her with him into the woods. She didn't even struggle at first, for she'd been lost in her own little world of thoughts and had not realised yet what he was doing and what was in store for her. The shouts of her two friends suddenly drew her attention, but she could not hear what it was that they were yelling. The snatchers made much too much noise. They were encouraging their leader.

Hermione froze and immediately Scabior tugged at her wrists forcefully, tugging her along with him again. They were leaving the group. "No!" Hermione shouted firmly. "Take me back!"

Scabior turned only for a split second to look at her before guiding her further down the hill. He had to admit she looked lovely even when she was angry. The look in her eyes told him she had hope to beat him, and a hope to be able to escape from his clutches. He also imagined she probably didn't understood what he was about to do to her, and this was confirmed when he came to a halt. She had stopped asking him to take her back and just glanced about. "What is it you want from me? Just take us to the manor and have it over with." She complained to him and he grinned. "Mione, Mione." He shook his head and eyed her again, his expression was serious now. "That is your real name, right? 'Ermione?" She gave a short nod to confirm and bit her lip. Scabior smirked again now. "Mione, you're still so innocent." He gave her no further explanation.

She found herself backing up against a tree. As he had let go of her hands she felt she had a chance to escape and tried to hit him but he was surprisingly fast and prepared for her attempt to flee. When it failed she tried to use her knees instead, lifting one to hit him in a rather sensitive spot but having it caught in his hand. He smirked at her with a lustful gaze and she froze. She didn't recognise the look and could only guess why he was looking at her in that way. She thought he might be thinking of torturing her, or perhaps or slapping her in the face. But he didn't. He lifted her legs, spreading them and using a simple spell to disrobe her. That was when panic really hit her.

"What are you….? No!" But her cries were ignored. She knew she had been loud enough for Harry and Ron to hear as the 'no' had hurt her throat. She hadn't thought she'd been capable of producing so much volume. But it was to no avail. He had taken away her panties and jeans, now scattered on the floor beside the tree and covering some of it's protruding roots. She had missed his undressing, which he'd done only moments after they'd arrived on the spot. She'd been too busy with her own thoughts and had missed how he'd taken out a fleshy part of himself, hard and throbbing for release.

Scabior had her trapped and he enjoyed it. "Well, 'ow about we give little Scabior a bit of fun, eh?" His hand stroked Hermione's cheek and slid down past her neck to her collarbone. Hermione had no idea who are what he was talking about. She had never heard his name before. But she was scared now that she knew what he was planning to do to her. Her back was against the tree, her hands trapped at either side of her, and her bottom lifted and held by the snatcher's hand. He was very strong and she doubted she could escape from his grip. She tried but the effort only tired her and earned her a displeased grunt. His second hand came to join her hips again, holding her up in the air. Her legs were now at either side of his body and it made her feel fear. She was making soft pleading noises. She could not kick him, she could not slap him, she could try to push him away but that would not stop him from invading her body.

He positioned himself at her entrance and his blue eyes searched for hers. The look he gave her could be mistaken for pity, but it was in fact pure lust. His upper body was close to hers, feeling her breasts with his chest. His head moving close to hers to inhale her scent, lips almost brushing the skin of neck. "Such a lovely girl." He breathed.

He could feel how she started to panic. Hermione's eyes were wide and her hands had come to rest against his shoulders, trying to push him away. "Please no." She whimpered, but to no avail.

With one swift thrust he was inside her. Hermione closed her eyes in pain. He had in no ways been gentle upon entering her inexperienced body. There was a soaring pain between her legs as he was stretching her painfully. And then he laughed. Hermione's eyes opened in shock at the sound of it. Why was he laughing? At least he wasn't moving now, it gave her body some time to adjust as her walls pulsed around his throbbing cock in an attempt to try and force him out of her. Naturally it did not work.

Scabior smirked down at her, making sure she'd caught the look in his eyes, and then slowly moved his gaze down her body. His left hand reached in between them, touching where their bodies were joined and moving up to his face again. He looked at it, seeing the traces of blood on his fingers which he then rubbed past each other. "Oh, my lovely, 'ow sweet of you." He grinned at knowing he'd been her first. It was the greatest gift she could have given him.

Hermione flinched in disgust, a motion which didn't go unnoticed by the snatcher. Yet everything had happened so fast, Hermione hadn't been able to hide her disgust. It displeased Scabior to see the look on her face, no matter how quickly she tried to give him a more neutral and uncaring expression again, he had seen it and it angered him. She should be happy for their bodies to be joined, and in a flash of anger he roughly brought his fingers to her lips, forcing her mouth open even though she protested. "Suck 'em clean, suck 'em." He commanded her. At the shouting Hermione closed her eyes and pressed her lips tightly shut.

She wasn't going to suck the stranger's hand nor her own bodily fluids. She refused to taste her own blood from him. At her defiant behaviour Scabior did the thing that came to mind and slid halfway out of her,, then forcefully pushed in again. Hermione, who had just come to think her body had gotten adjusted to him, was proved wrong and yelped in pain. His fingers easily slipped into her mouth. "Suck 'em." He ordered her again, and once more but this time louder. His hips bucked against hers again and tears were now stinging in her eyes. She realised she had no other choice now and did as she was told. If she angered him even more then what would he do? Obviously he wasn't planning to kill her. No, he'd only make her suffer more.

A sob escaped her as she had now started to cry visibly and audibly, but the snatcher ignored it. After he felt she'd been sucking on his fingers long enough he removed them from her mouth to take hold of her hips again. Her legs had locked around his waist as he drove himself deeper and deeper inside of her. His actions were rough, his thrusts hard and his rhythm increasing. He watched her through half-lidded eyes as low sounds escaped his throat. This was pure bliss.

Her young walls were milking him, pulling and begging for his seed. His penis was painfully hard and his thrusts now only deep. He buried his head in her hair for the final few thrusts which were uncontrolled and with no rhythm at all. He was hitting her sensitive spot now, earning a few moans from Hermione who refused to cooperate with him. Yet her body seemed to have other plans for the few times he'd hit her spot had been enough to send her over the edge. Her body started trembling and her vaginal walls clamped down hard on him. Tears were still streaming down her cheeks as she felt him bury himself deep inside of her. He groaned and inhaled her scent as he came. His head rested on her shoulder and his long hair tickled her nose. She could smell him, woods, damp forests and sweat. Her mouth was open wide and her eyes closed. A small sound escaped her throat sounding much like an 'oh'. His balls had tightened and his warm seed spilled inside of her. He felt warm and was grateful for having found his relief.

Yet her scent was still driving him insane. He could feel the effect she had on his body and knew he wasn't done yet. She wasn't done yet. At moving his chest away from the girl, their bodies still locked, he could see her flushed expression and brought a hand up to stroke her cheek gently. At the touch she opened her eyes and glared up at him, her expression one of anger. He could see she was looking at him like that on purpose, to show she had not enjoyed their contact and to fit her stubborn and fiery nature. He chuckled.

"Well, Mione, don't look at me like that." His voice was sulky as if he meant to say he didn't deserve her treatment like this. He was acting it, teasing her to see her expression turn even fouler. He laughed and slipped out of her, his penis hardening again at the sight of her. Hermione didn't even dare to glance down at his body. Although he was still dressed for most of it she knew part of him must be out in the open. Just like she didn't want to see her own legs right now. She was trembling slightly, but not of the cold. Her body was tired and she felt emotionally drained. Then his hand reached for her again and she was grabbed by the shoulder and pulled down to the ground.

He was flipping her over and forcing her up on hands and knees. He'd come to sit behind her, his hands sliding down her body, his rough fingertips brushing past the delicate skin of her back.

"You're not done yet, beautiful." He murmured near her ear and Hermione could feel her breath hitch. She didn't want this, not again, and wanted to cry and shout for him to stop. But she had spilled many tears already and her throat was dry and hoarse.

"No."

It didn't even sound as if she was screaming, it was just a weak screech and she panicked, but her steadied her. Scabior grabbed her hips, positioning himself, and entering her. This time she was wet enough for him to slide in easily and he closed his eyes, gasping at the sensation her body meant to him. Hermione cried out softly, her hands turning into small fists. But Scabior had a good grip on her hips and made it impossible for her to wiggle away. He forced himself into her and for her to move along with him. A soft yelp escaped her lips at the new position they were in. She could hear him hum and compliment her. "So good." And for the first time she realised he had a slight accent. She tried to focus on the things around her, the birds and the rustling of the leaves in the trees. But quite soon she became aware of another sound that met her ears, that of their bodies meeting. Wet and slick sounds of his manhood pumping her and she gasped. He became rougher again, slamming into her and groaning for her to follow him, though she did not know where or what he'd meant with it.

Then he told her to come with him and she cried out. He'd hit her cervix, again and again, until she came a second time, her body delightfully pulling at him and receiving his gift. For the second time that day his seeds shot into her womb and he came panting, gently stroking her back as he'd almost collapsed on top of her. Hermione caught her breath and felt how her arms gave away. She fell forward, her head against the autumn leaves and her hair mixing with the mud of the forest floor. Her hips were still up high and it took a while before the snatcher removed himself from her. He wiped her clean with his hand and then went to button his pants.

"Dress yourself." He commanded, and Hermione closed her eyes and moaned. She could not do it. She just didn't have the strength and the will anymore.

"Dress yourself." He said again, this time stressing both words, but she cried out some nonsensical words as a protest and he growled under his breath, walking over to her and taking her panties. He moved her so he could dress her, first her panties and then her jeans. He tugged at her sweater so she looked presentable again. "Look, all nice and new." He looked up at her and saw she hadn't appreciated his joke. Her eyes were cold and although she was tired he could see the anger in them . "Ah, no 'ard feelings, okay?" He nudged her cheek with his hand in a playful manner.

"Suppose you can't stand on your own either."

Hermione refused to be seen as a dependent muggle and forced herself up onto her feet, ready to face him victoriously, when she took a step and cried out of the pain she felt at standing. He'd hit her insides hard and also her legs showed bruises which she now felt.

"I thought so." The snatcher calmly replied and took her by the arm. "If you so insist on walking yourself you shall 'ave your pleasure."

He roughly pulled her along with him, leading her back to the group of snatchers while she winced in pain.

Luckily the group hadn't been to far off and she was greeted by Ron's cry for her. "Hermione!" He was struggling to reach her but the other snatchers were just too strong. Scabior let go of the young witch and she fell onto the ground, not able to support herself anymore. All she wanted was to sleep. Forever if possible. She grinned at the thought.

"Let's take 'em to the manor."

The last thing she recalled was being taken in his arms, lifted up from the mud and having that strange feel of her insides turning to outsides as he apparated with her. Her tired eyes locked with Harry's and she could see the concern in his eyes. This wasn't their journey as planned.

This wasn't supposed to have happened.


	2. Chapter 2

**AU: **Here it is, I wrote another part. Next part should contain lemons again ;D This is as I like to call it an in-betweener. Lol. Should I write more? And if so, what would you as a reader prefer to see? _Let me know ;D_

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**2**

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They entered the gates of the Malfoy manor. There wasn't much needed to have access granted to them. All Scabior needed to do was show Harry's deformed face and brush away the hairs that had been hiding the scar he carried. That one mark would always give him away.

Hermione was panting rapidly. She barely noticed what was going on as she was handed to another snatcher who kept a good grip on her. Her legs hurt and there was a great stinging between her legs with each step she took, it captured all her attention. She didn't notice how silent Ron had become now he knew what had happened to Hermione. Or Harry, who had ceased struggling as well, and silently regretted he couldn't have been there to help and save his friend. She had saved him by jinxing his face, she could have rescued all of them if that snatcher had kept his hands to himself. But he had not.

Now a new worry was added to their list. How long till the spell stopped working? How long till Harry would become himself again? And what would be done to them?

With another push Hermione was forced to walk forward and she softly yelped. It earned her a pleased grin from Scabior who glanced at her from the corners of his eyes. She was doing her best to stay strong and he admired her braveness.

As soon as they entered the manor they were led into a large dark room where Lucius and his son Draco were seated. The crazy witch Bellatrix was the first to grab Harry while Scabior explained things to them.

Hermione was listening to his smooth voice and his slight accent. She was disgusted by him and with each letter that escaped his lips she could feel him inside of her again, thrusting and banging until her body was sore yet pleasure washed over her. How her body dared to betray her, she wondered. How had her body been able to come with this stranger who cared nothing about her and had only taken her for a good quick –

"Yes, what is wrong with his face?"

Hermione's thoughts were broken as she watched how the black-haired witch was chirping a bit too enthusiastically with Harry in her arms. Harry?

'Oh no.' Harry was in trouble. Draco was about to give them all away and there was nothing they could do.

"He came to us like that. Something he picked up in the forest I reckon." Hermione flinched at the snatcher's words. They send shivers down her spine and she could feel how the grip on her was tightened. She wasn't sure who was holding her but by the feel of it she guessed it might be Fenrir.

"Ran into a stinging jinx?" Hermione's eyes opened wide again. "Was it you, dear?" She gazed at the witch who came closer to her, threatening as she held a wand pointed at Hermione's throat. Her breathing increased. She could not see how Scabior gave her a sympathetic glance.

"Give me her wand. Let me see what her last spell was."

Bellatix was laughing now. She was certain she had the young mudblood witch in the most unpleasant position ever. Hermione closed her eyes and swallowed hard. This would be her death. Her doom. But then the evil witch got distracted by Godric's sword.

Hermione didn't hear what was being said next. But as soon as she had opened her eyes again she could see the crazed witch reaching for a whip and using it. Her eyes travelled to meet those of Ron, but he was worriedly gazing at Harry.

Bellatrix reached out her whip, slapping the snatcher who stood so proudly with the sword in hand. Scabior panicked as he knew this meant anarchy. It was one of the snatcher's privileges to take whatever they found on the bodies. He took a step forth.

"Are you mad?"

Only to be met with the whip which swung itself around his neck and took away his air. He reached for it, trying to keep it from squashing his veins and felt how he was being thrown to the floor.

At this point Hermione noticed the ring he was wearing. She wondered why she'd not noticed it before. What did it mean?

The snatcher was whipped against the floor one more time and then hit in the face. "Get out, Get out!" The crazed witch in front of him called and he indeed scrambled up onto his feet and left the room, spreading his arms to have his men join him outside.

"Cissy, put the boys in the cellar. I want a little conversation with this one. Girl to girl."

'No,' This just couldn't be. Hermione had thought she'd been through the worst but apparently she'd been mistaken. Her friends were dragged off. Now the torture would be the worst.

From behind the doors Scabior was listening. He had heard Bellatrix's wish spoken out loud. She was cursing the snatchers and he could her promise to wipe them all out. His eyes widened as he rearranged his, or actually Hermione's, scarf. He silently pitied the girl who was locked away behind him. She had been fitting him so nicely. He hoped she would come out in one piece and then be discarded by the Death Eaters inside so he could take her again. He didn't care how as long as he could get his hands on her again. Perhaps keep her as a pet.

It had been such a great disappointment to learn she wasn't a pure-blood as he had hoped she would have been. She wasn't even a half-one. No, a simple mudblood with the best grades in school and a tight body to die for.

"Boss?"

"What?" He clenched his fists, irritated for his thoughts to be interrupted. Behind him the screaming of the young witch could be heard. He hadn't thought she would own so much voice after what he'd done to her. She'd been doing a lot of screaming that day and he imagined she would not have a voice left if she survived. Well, not that it mattered much. He'd have her silent then. As long as he'd still have her.

"We should probably be leavin' again, boss." The young male held up a list with names. Traitors they would have to snatch somewhere that day, but Scabior was reluctant to leave. "Ave Fenrir lead you. I'm not up for it." The others gave him some compassionate glances as they imagined he still lacked some air after he'd nearly been strangled in front of their eyes. Of course it must have hurt his ego and pride, to be treated in such a way in front of his own men. "But boss, you're the one who runs fastest. Ever since we teamed up with you we've been makin' good money, ey." It was true that all his en were loyal to him because he was simply the best leading snatcher around. He always seemed to be lucky at catching his victims and always knew the perfect methods to get them talking.

"No." He raised his hand. They understood and slowly nodded their heads. "I'll be in the camp at six." Scabior continued, his hands folded between his legs as he heard another scream from his toy. "We'll do the last ones t'gether." The men started to laugh now and cheered, telling out loud how their boss didn't let them down before wandering off to the gate where they would disapparate. Only Fenrir remained, watching his leader in silence.

Behind him the screams had subsided and a soft sobbing could be heard. Though Bellatrix hadn't finished with the girl yet. A slap could be heard and then a sharp intake of breath. "What's that? Oh? Love marks? Seems someone has been rough with you, dear. Why you little whore! Who is that from, uh? Who did you sleep with?" A short pause. "I bet you enjoyed it."

Slap.

Fenrir's eyes darkened. He knew that it had been their boss who had taken the girl against her will only moments ago. Scabior had heard it too but ignored the comment.

Hermione was suffering behind those doors, more than anyone could imagine as the worst things that could be said had been said to her. Mudblood had been carved in her arm, never to fade, she'd not been able to protect her friends, she'd been tortured, accused of things she did not know, her virginity had been taken by a stranger, and now she was blamed for having enjoyed it and bringing it onto herself.

"Foul Mudblood." Bellatrix snarled at her, saliva spitting into the girl's face in the process. "Foul dirty mudblood. You're doing it on purpose, aren't you? Thinking you can save your race by reproducing. Well, it's not going to work…."

"Well?" Scabior finally asked. He'd tilted his head slightly to glare at the beast and heard Fenrir grunt.

The animal slowly turned around to walk off and Scabior slumped against the wall. He was seated on a table, rather carelessly, and closed his eyes while listening to the ranting behind him. His hands run into his hair. 'Fuck,' He thought to himself.

He had not thought about using protection.


	3. Chapter 3

**AU: **After a long break (I totally forgot this account because I thought no one would ever read my stories) I decided to try and continue. Do you like it? Please review if you do and if you'd want to read more. Feel free to suggest something you'd like to see happen ;D And if you think this doesn't read too well copy past to a word document or so, that's how I write these stories and there they look the best.

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**3**

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There was a sound on the stairs and Scabior looked up. He had been taken by his thoughts, daydreaming, for the past minutes. In his mind he had seen it all. That delicious young girl would be his again. Tonight, if possible.

Yet the sounds in the room behind him had indicated otherwise, and the snatcher had an eerie feeling in the pit of his stomach. She was not the half-blood she had lied herself to be and as Bellatrix was busy with her for over twenty minutes now Scabior doubted that she wasn't of importance to them. Which sucked.

Heavily.

If she had just been another random victim Scabior could have taken her with him and indeed have made her his favourite. He bit the nail of his thumb as he stared at the staircase, expecting someone to appear there. His thoughts wandered back to _his_ Mione.

Behind him the door opened and his attention was taken. He turned to look over his shoulder and found his blue eyes meeting the dark orbs of Bellatrix. The crazed witch was clutching the door as she smirked at him.

"So I was right. One of the snatcher's lingered…"

She looked as if she was going to say more but instead she just beckoned him with a finger. The snatcher didn't know how to reply to this and merely shrugged. He glanced helplessly from side to side, but eventually had to push himself up and went over to her. There was no way he would have her angry on him again.

He swallowed as he neared her. Fear for being strangled for not having left like she had said to suddenly took over and he cowered, making himself look smaller than he actually was. The witch seemed to have noticed and punched his back playfully with a fist.

"You coward." She said, a grin adorning her face.

Scabior let her. He was much too curious about the young girl he had brought in. Was she still alive? Was she going to be given to him?

The witch placed a hand on his shoulder, arm wrapped around him, and led him into the room with a gentle smile, as if they were friends. "A naughty snatcher, yet very ambitious." Bellatrix mused. "Staying when he should be leaving." Her voice was raised at the end of the sentence.

At this point they neared the centre of the room where Hermione lay, panting. Her eyes were dull and her body was covered in sweat. She was trembling like a leaf in the wind, and Scabior's blue eyes darkened at the sight of her. She looked so vulnerable.

Bellatrix came to a halt and made a wide gesture toward the girl. "Isn't she pretty. Your catch." She smiled teasingly and Scabior silently agreed.

"Too bad she's such a whore." Bellatrix continued. "Right?" The crazed witch kicked at Hermione but missed on purpose, just to see her flinch. She then laughed. "Yes, you're such a whore." She shouted, and Hermione turned her head away.

"Well," Bellatrix continued, turning to Scabior and talking in a more gentle voice. "She's no virgin anymore but if you wanna do it, I'd say just do it."

Scabior looked at her dumbfounded. Perhaps this was why he never stayed at the manor once he'd received his new mission details. Because he knew the inhabitants were used to this kind of torture and play. He wrinkled his nose.

"Oh-oh," The witch teased him, "If you don't want to you don't have to, big boy." She playfully patted the front of his trousers. "I'll just get Lucius to do it."

She happily turned around, ready to walk away. "Or Draco. It's about time that boy would learn how to do things around here."

Scabior reached out a hand. "Wait." And Bellatrix froze. The snatcher couldn't see the evil smirk that grew on her face. "I'll do it."

Hearing Scabior's words, Bellatrix turned back to face him. "Are you sure? You got twelve minutes."

Scabior cursed inwardly. Since when was there a time scale attached to it? He wasn't good at time limits. But he would not complain. It was either he or another random Death Eater Bellatrix would meet in the hallway. It was clear she wasn't picky and just wanted Hermione to be raped.

"By Merlin's beard, I'll do it. No need to get the Malfoys." He said boldly.

"No need to get them indeed. They're too good to be befouled by a mere mudblood." Bellatrix spit. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

Scabior looked at Hermione and slowly came closer. She was still trembling and had her head turned away from him. But he could see her peek at him from the corners of her eyes. His left and gloved hand came down and gently trailed her cheek and neck.

"Oh, don't worry. I took off the bottom for you," Bellatrix chirped from behind him. "Eleven minutes."

Scabior growled at her. "Don't be so annoying and give us some privacy."

His hand slipped down Hermione's chest, feeling the material of her sweater against his rough palms. Then it went even lower until it rested between her bare legs, gently swiping past the sensitive pussy which was still red and sore from his previous assault on her body. It was clear she hadn't told Bellatrix otherwise the witch would have never asked him.

He bent forth, his lips pressing against Hermione's sweaty forehead.

"If you keep up like this you'll have no fun at all. Ten." Bellatrix counted behind his back. She was glaring at her magical clock and had no eyes for the two 'lovers' on the floor in front of her.

Scabior growled in the back of his throat and settled himself between Hermione's legs. He was aroused, but not hard enough in his opinion. As he undid his trousers he was surprised by how little resistance the girl gave him. He could easily hook a leg at either side of him and shove himself between her legs, in the right position, without her making a sound or try to pull away. The tip of his penis pressed against her sore entrance. His lips formed a tight line as he pitied her. He had wanted to wait before taking her again.

But he could not give her time to recover. He had to infiltrate her body again and there was no time to waste.

"You've got to work with me, beautiful." He said, his voice sharp and clear. It made Bellatrix giggle behind him. "Work with me." He rubbed his penis past her entrance and could see how Hermione's lips parted in a gasp at this. She arched her back and turned her head even further away.

This was displeasing the snatcher who already had trouble getting himself worked up. "Come on," he muttered. But when she did not respond he plunged forth, feeling how her body enveloped him. Her warmth was a bless and he felt how his member grew inside of her. His ringed hand wiped past her stomach a few times while his left hand kept her in place. He started a steady yet firm pace with each thrust going deeper inside of her.

Hermione's lips had parted again as she could not help sighing and gasping, and moaning with each thrust. They were sounds of reluctance, yet Bellatrix had to laugh because of them.

"Such a whore," She said, which irritated Scabior, "eight more minutes."

The snatcher wondered if he could do this quick one, especially when nothing of the situation was appealing to him. Nothing except the way Hermione lay in front of him, her hair tangled and her lips parted, gasping. Nothing but the way her scent hit him with each thrust, like waves of water. Nothing but for the feel of her hot tiny body squeezing around him.

Trusting on his senses alone he became hard like rock inside of her. Each thrust pounded against her cervix, each thrust made her body move with his. Each movement felt perfect too him.

And then he came.

He was gasping on top of her. Her legs were at either side of his waist. They were both still dressed, only his trousers were down his hips and she wasn't wearing any pants at all. His hair was tangled and fell down to touch the side of her face. Her hair lay spread around her head like she was a fallen angel. She moved her right arm and with that gave a first sign of still being alive. The snatcher was still catching his breath on top of her, his hands at either side of her body so he would not squash her.

"With some minutes left." Bellatrix commented, as if she was impressed, from behind, ticking against her magic clock which still had some time on it left. Scabior ignored her as he rather watched the creature underneath him.

For a moment he wanted to be with her and only her in this room. For a moment he imagined her wearing her scarf again and nothing else, underneath him, smiling up at him. He realised he'd never seen her smile, a thought which saddened him for no known reason. She stirred and moved her head. Though she did not face him she was looking at him again from the corners of her eyes.

Scabior forgot to breathe for a moment but could hear the crazed witch move behind him and cackle. He slid out of Hermione and buttoned his fly. In the meantime Hermione's lower half was clad again by magic as Bellatrix wanted to cover up for what had been done to the girl.

She was smiling smugly when Scabior turned to face her and he could see she had enjoyed her little game. "Now get lost." She barked at him, and with a slight frown the snatcher left the room.

Scabior hastened away. He was confused. Surely he had wanted to be inside of Hermione again, but not like this. With a worried glance at the now closed door he made sure to get away. His hand slapped his head as he felt taken. Though he had been the one to force himself on the girl he felt screwed.

Bellatrix would not let her go. He'd better forget the little magical girl who had so stubbornly looked the other way during the abuse.

He halted on top of the stairs and listened to Bellatrix taunting the girl. "So you loved that too, huh?"

Hermione seemed to have found her voice again as she hoarsely yelled a no, which hurt the snatcher's pride.

She had not liked it.

"And that?" Bellatrix could be heard lowering herself to the girl as she started to gnaw the girl's arm.

The snatcher had made his way down the stairs and left the hallway. Tiny footsteps could be heard behind him, but he was too pained to pay attention to them. He was trying to blink away the tears he held in his eyes as he made his way to the exit.

In one day time he had caught the girl of his dreams and had lost her, just like this. What had supposed to be the snatch of a lifetime, a girl for his pleasure alone, had become a forced experience for both him and her, and like her he felt raped by the day's events.

And she had not even liked it.

He slammed the door shut behind him, missing the figures who ran up the stairs. He did not hear how Harry and Ron entered the room to save Hermione. He made his way back to work, feeling grief and moody. Behind him the golden trio was zapped away. And now he disapparated as well.

"Boss?" Radagast asked when he saw Scabior appear in front of him. Fenrir stood next to the young snatcher and whacked his head for it. "It's fine, Fenrir." Scabior told the wolf without looking at him. He brushed past the two fellow snatchers and tried to act as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. His blue eyes were dry again, his face showing no sign of grief but for the accentuated lines on his forehead and near his eyes.

"Let's snatch."


End file.
